


The Cullrian Diaries

by McLavellan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Addiction, And the punishment is.....a spanking !, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Lyrium Addiction, M/M, No dick sucking in the library, Self-Esteem Issues, Spunking on books is a crime tho, sex in public places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-08-20 18:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McLavellan/pseuds/McLavellan
Summary: Just a bunch of useless drabbles I write because apparently I ship these idiots.





	1. Addicted

**Author's Note:**

> TW for addiction
> 
> Cullen's been having a bad night.

   When Cullen came to, his head was rising and falling with Dorian's chest. He closed his eyes again, just listening to Dorian’s heartbeat, his breath, feeling the fingers still threaded through his hair. The shirt under his cheek was damp with his sweat and he could already hear the insincere chiding he'd get from Dorian, the man pretending to care about frivolous things while looking simply relieved when he didn't think he was being watched.  
   Cullen ached, his head span, he was hungry, felt like laughing and crying and screaming, just anything to throw off the dull buzz the addiction left in his veins.  
   Slowly, Cullen rolled onto his back, quickly regretting it when it felt like he was floating, spinning away, and snatched Dorian's hand to anchor himself. The mage snorted awake, muttered something and looked at Cullen quicker than he'd ever dream of letting on.         "Your hands are cold. I'm going to run you a bath,” he said, trying to fake a casual yawn.  
   "Not yet," Cullen said, voice faint and clouded like dust. He curled himself around Dorian, burying his cold, sweaty face in his neck, apologising as he did.  
   "If this is your way of getting me in the bath with you, can you please use your words next time?”  
   Cullen laughed, a forced sound, as his brain rattled in his skull and his blood burned with want. He felt Dorian's hand in his hair again, tried to relax to it, but couldn't. It made him think of insects and probing and grasping. He quickly took Dorian's wrist to stop him, choking another apology, grinding his teeth, trying to find a place to put the hurt and pain and that burning want.  
   Dorian had stopped getting defensive and apologising so much. He took his hand away carefully and stroked Cullen's cheek, then paused…. He tugged at his nightshirt, not hard enough to pull it from Cullen's teeth, and planted a kiss on his head.  
   “Can you wait here a moment? I just remembered your gift. I found a merchant wandering around the Storm Coast looking for lost goods and he happened to have something you could chew on besides my clothes.”  
   Too much talk, Cullen just took in a little and let go, reluctantly. Eyes closed as Dorian left, praying for his return, waiting, waiting, what seemed like forever until the bed dipped and the warmth was back. Something strange smelling and dry poked as his lips.  
   “Chew this,” Dorian ordered, softly.  
   Cullen opened his mouth and then his eyes, spitting the thing back out. “Maker that's disgusting. What is it?”  
   “Licorice root. Cheaper to replace than my shirt.”


	2. Insecure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorian isn't as confident as he let's on. Three words can easily undo him.

Dorian loved fucking Cullen. Taking him, making him whine and beg. He loved the way Cullen wanted him and needed him. But he also loved when Cullen took control. Those rare, frustrated nights when he needed an outlet and knew Dorian was willing. The way he'd march into Dorian's room, kick the door shut, lock it, tear his armor off and command Dorian, in silence, to strip and ready himself. How he wanted Dorian on his back, wanted that eye contact. Fucked Dorian until the light came back into his eyes, his face creasing, body shaking, moaning, kissing, no longer made of stone. 

  It was perfect. At least until, one stormy night, Cullen happened to speak, just as he'd untensed, human again, connected. 

  “I love you,” he'd panted. 

  And Dorian simply snorted, pushed the words aside, moved with Cullen's thrusts. 

  “What?” Cullen chuckled. “You think that's funny?” 

  Dorian appreciated that Cullen was warm again, comfortable, sweet. But the words stung tonight. With him. 

  “Just shut up and fuck me.”

  But Cullen didn't. He stilled himself and spoke instead. “Dorian…. I mean it. You know that, right?” He still had the hint of laughter in his voice and Dorian wanted to laugh with him, let it pass, but tears pricked at his eyes, so he ducked his head, sucking on Cullen's neck to hide it. 

  Once again, the man refused to play fair. He pulled away, but not completely, still pinning Dorian. Still inside him. 

  “Dorian. What's wrong?” He asked, humour fading. 

  “I don't like being fooled with. Not tonight,” Dorian spat. “Fuck me or leave me.”

  “I'm not fooling and I'm not leaving.” Yet he pulled out, sitting back. 

  Dorian, with a tear rolling down his cheek, swung his legs off the bed, finding his clothes and fussing. “Just go.”

  “No. I need to know what I've done wrong.”

  “Nothing. You've been perfectly charming. I just don't want those words.”

  Cullen reached out, but held still when Dorian flinched. “I'm sorry. But… isn't it what we're supposed to say?”

  “Not when you don't mean it!” Dorian was standing now, voice raised, looking and feeling like a madman. He quickly deflated, feeling more tears, trying to hold them back with the heels of his hands. “Go.”

  He listened to the movement. Slow. Cullen was dressing because Dorian had blown it, couldn't keep it casual anymore, not when Cullen was giving him everything he wanted without realising how _deeply_ it was wanted. But it would be over now. Awkward glances, lonely nights. Maybe the odd tumble with Bull to pretend he was OK, that he didn't need love. He sobbed, his chest heaving with it, and tried to pull away when arms wrapped around him.

  “I told you I wasn't leaving,” Cullen whispered. “Not until I've been heard. I love you, Dorian Pavus. I go to bed each night wanting you and wake each day praying you still want me…. If you don't…. I need to know. Before I make a bigger fool out of myself.” All of this said into Dorian's hair, the mage curled against the commander, shaking. 

  “Please don't,” Dorian sniffed. “I don't want to be hurt like this.”

  “Like what?” Cullen asked, rubbing his shoulder. 

  There was no answer. 

  Cullen dropped to his knees, holding one of Dorian's hands while the other hid his tear drenched face. Cullen kissed it, stroked it, waited patiently until Dorian peeked from behind his fingers, frustrated. 

  “What?” He snapped. 

  With a shrug, Cullen waited, still soothing the hand he held. He kissed it again. 

  “I love you and I would follow you into the darkest corners of the fade if you asked me to.”

  “How long are you going to keep saying that?”

  “Until you believe it or tell me you don't feel the same. But, maker, I hope you feel the same, Dorian…..”

  He couldn't help but smile as Dorian pulled his hand away, standing straight, trying to gather his dignity. This always came before he relented and Cullen was almost certain Dorian would be relenting in his favour. 

  “Well now you've made me ugly and-and pathetic. So you might as well get me back on that bed… If you really feel that way.”

  Standing, Cullen tilted his head. “What way?”

  “If you love me as I love you!” An angry huff, crossed arms, and another tear. Cullen kissed it away and held Dorian. “I'll keep you safe and loved. I swear it.”

  “Kaffas,” Dorian sobbed, holding on. 

 


	3. Shhh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian makes a point.
> 
> Cullen makes a tent. Hurhurhur.

“You know, for a moment,” Cullen grinned between kisses, “I thought you actually had some interesting information you wanted me to see.”

Worming his fingers into Cullen's waistband, Dorian gave him a haughty pout. “I do. It's that I want you. Right now.”

“At least you didn't tell the poor messenger that.”

Dorian stopped, quirking his head. “What makes you think I didn't?”

Perhaps a month ago, Cullen would have fallen for that, blushed and been prime for the teasing. But he was getting rather used to Dorian's antics. Maybe not _completely_ , given that he was now in the library with Dorian trying to unwrap him like a gift. Although he probably unwrapped gifts far more delicately.

Nice as it was, Cullen held Dorian's wrists just a breath from getting him in hand, and nudged their heads together. “Behave, Pavus. I'll see you tonight.”

“It practically _is_ tonight. Come on, there's barely anyone around.” Dorian did, however, retrieve his hands, but only to turn Cullen and direct him to the corner of his nook.

“Oh, would you look at that. Just the book we need. Why don't you open it and have a look?” He asked it theatrically, for somebody's benefit but their own, then gave Cullen a little push, until Cullen took a book at random and opened it. Dorian stood just behind, peering over his shoulder as his hands went back to rooting through his underwear.

Cullen gasped as a cold hand wrapped around his cock, stroking firmly, getting him hard. He rested his head back on Dorian's shoulder, being rewarded with a kiss to his jaw and an amused hum.

One hand expertly untied Cullen's fly, giving the other room to pump a little harder. He groaned, shifting a little to steady his weight as he fucked Dorian's hand.

“Good boy,” the mage whispered, making his hand tingle a little around Cullen's shaft.

“Oh, shit.” He tried not to grunt too loudly, to keep as still and quiet as he could.

“Oh yes, what an interesting chapter,” Dorian said in that stupidly loud way. “Shall we read some more?”

His hand stopped.

Cullen stopped.

“M-more, yes,” he breathed.

“OK, we'll read more.”

“Thank you. Thank you…. “

Dorian switched hands, so he could lick the palm of his right and return it, wet, to Cullen's erection. Cullen swore, dug his heels in the ground, and vaguely heard Dorian talking about some nonsense. Everything seemed to shut down as he came, right over the books, momentarily horrified that he had and then quite pleased with himself.

“What a delightfully good read,” Dorian chirped, kissing his cheek and releasing him.

It took a moment or two to recover before Cullen tidied himself up and looked around quickly, making sure nobody had wandered over out of curiosity.

“Indeed it was…. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” Cullen cleared his throat, gave Dorian a nod and headed back out to his office. It wasn't until he reached the tower door that he saw the note.

> No dick sucking in the Library.

Cullen, eyes wide, face red, spun and saw Solas.

“Who-when?!”

With an unimpressed scowl, Solas folded his arms. “Mother Gisele put it up yesterday. Sera…. Edited it.”

Cullen looked again, trying to decipher Mother Giselle's words under the “sucking dick” scrawled over them, before realising it wasn't entirely relevant. He looked to Solas, words failing him, and rushed off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because cullenlovesmen sent me a picture of the sign and the idea that Mother Giselle would put it there.
> 
> I refuse to believe Dorian would let it go.


	4. Little Comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian has had a miserable time and is coming down with a cold. Cullen has learnt to be patient with the little prick.

Cullen made a point, these days, of being certain to greet the party at the gates when they returned. Oftentimes before, he'd go straight to the War Room for the debriefing. But since Dorian was one of the Inquisitors favorites, he was away so much, leaving Cullen to worry alone at Skyhold. Now, he liked to be among the welcoming party, trying to assess Dorian's condition from across the bridge, still frowning as he helped Dorian from his horse, not stopping until Dorian poked the wrinkles in his forehead and gave him an easy, if somewhat tired, smile. 

 “Yes, I know,” he'd sigh, and only then make his excuses and head to the War Room. But this time, he didn't leave right away, he didn't even stop frowning. 

 “Why was there no word?”

 “Ambushed,” Dorian smiled tightly, eyes flickering past Cullen. “I'm sure the inquisitor will be happy to tell you all about it.”

 The frown, at this point, only deepened. Dorian was usually demanding a bath by now. And grapes. And a foot massage. Nice and loud, so everyone could hear his pompous act and cast opinions, separating themselves from him with a cold distance. 

 Cullen tried to take his hand, secretly, but Dorian turned away to leave, the Inquisitor nudging Cullen instead. Everyone was tired and wanted to rest, it was unkind to make them wait. 

 As such, the debrief was, as it should be, brief. And yet Dorian was not in his quarters, their usual post mission meeting place. Nor was he in Cullen's quarters or the courtyard. Cullen found him in his old haunt at the Tavern. He'd prised himself in with the Chargers and was talking and laughing far too loudly. Cullen half expected to find him alone, wallowing. To see him in company and smiling seemed worse somehow and Cullen was uncertain of what to do, until Krem beckoned him over. 

 “Cullen!” Dorian smiled, still too tightly. “You should take my seat. I believe the next round is Bull's.” He stood quickly, trying to peel himself out, thinking he'd caught Cullen in a trap. He'd clearly forgotten Cullen's prowess at turning down invitations to company. 

 “Actually, I was looking for you. I'll walk out with you.” He'd learnt to smile pleasantly at catching Dorian out and stood aside to let him pass, following out of the Tavern. “Are you going to tell me what's wrong or have I done something to deserve a guessing game?”

 “Don't be stupid,” Dorian said. It was flat. 

 “Please… even if it's bad, just say it. You don't want me?”

 That stopped Dorian. He turned, eyes still tired, wet now, cheeks pink from too much wine in too little time. “No. Don't… Don't think that. I'm not nearly honourable enough to save you from myself. Perhaps I should be, but-” he waved the rest of the thought away and quickened his pace. 

 “Dorian. You know I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me to.”

 “Leave me alone.”

 “Like you mean it.”

 Dorian spun again, but Cullen was ready. He placed a hand on Dorian's cheek, looked at him worriedly, and held his hand. 

 “I'll get food. You just get to your room. And promise you won't lock the door?”

 “I can't promise that,” Dorian sniffed, holding himself tall and looking away but keeping still. 

 “Thank you,” Cullen smiled, knowing he'd won. 

 He returned with the usual selection of food and drink he knew they both enjoyed and found Dorian on the rug by the fire. He'd laid down some furs and brought the chairs closer, though he only used them to lean back against. Cullen joined him, silently, and took his hand. They stayed like that for a few minutes before he heard a sniff from Dorian. He looked to see him staring intently at the fire. 

 “The inquisitor said you're running a temperature. If anything, I'd say that's a few days bed rest.”

 The corner of Dorian's lip pinched into a smile and his hand gave Cullen's a sudden squeeze. “I'm just tired.”

 “Seeing old friends among the Venatori can't have helped.”

 Dorian snatched his hand away. “He wasn't a friend. We don't have friends.”

 “Felix-”

 “Don't.”

 Cullen let out a slow breath. “At least you have charming Ferelden lovers.” He picked Dorian's hand up and brought it to his lips. 

 “Ass.”

 Graciously ignoring the tear, Cullen gave a little chuckle and started picking through the food. 

 They ate first. Quietly, occasionally discussing the quality of this and that from the kitchens. Then Cullen updated him on all the gossip he'd overheard, which was little, given that he wasn't one for it himself, but it always thrilled Dorian. It wasn't until he was nodding off himself that he realised Dorian was asleep. The mage had his head on Cullen's shoulder, hand half in his shirt, while Cullen's cheek was nestled in his hair. He only had to turn a little to brush his lips on Dorian's head, feeling how hot it was. It probably wasn't the best idea to be falling asleep as they were but at least it was warm…. 

 Dorian jolted, pulling Cullen out of the reaching grasp of sleep. Nightmares. What nightmares mages must have. Demons so easily able to take them. 

 “Dorian?” He gasped, afraid. 

 Dorian let out a small, tortured sound. “Blackwall’s… Pants…..” He snorted and snuffled and then snored. 

 Whether it was funny or not, or even cute, Cullen's reeling brain was not in a position to decide. He carefully extracted himself and helped Dorian, half asleep, to stand, shuffling him to the bed and getting him tucked in. 

 While they'd made love plenty, they'd never stayed a full night in one another's beds, so Cullen was just going to lie down for a moment, on top of the blankets, and watch Dorian. Make sure he got to sleep….. 

 It was still dark. And oddly warm. Too warm on one side. Something hot against his skin. He wriggled and adjusted the covers, suddenly realising he was under them. When had that happened…. The hot thing moved and muttered something and Cullen rested back into the bed. Dorian's bed. But he wasn't alone in it this time. Feeling around, he found Dorian's hand and held it, getting a little squeeze in response. Before long they were moving, quietly and slowly, without words. Peeling one another's clothes off hands reaching for each other, fumbling in the dark for oil, fucking gently, silently, softly. And then sleep again…. 

  
  



	5. Sleepy boys part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided this is the second part to the last chapter because why the fuck not.

Dorian woke in the morning wìh a strong arm wrapped around him. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up with someone in his bed, but it was the first time he wasn't hungover and actually remembered their name.

The hand was holding his, just under his chin, and so, feeling a strange and pleasant warmth in his chest, he ducked his head just a little to kiss the knuckles.

He jumped, then laughed at his foolishness when the hand moved.

"You're awake then?"

"Mm," Cullen mumbled. He lifted his thumb to stroke Dorian's lip.

Dorian, with the slightest of smirks, took it into his mouth, held it gently between his teeth, and swirled his tongue around it, then began to suck. The smirk grew as he heard a little moan from Cullen, felt him grow hard, shifting against Dorian's backside. Still sucking the thumb, he wriggled his ass against Cullen's erection. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he was thrilled when the commander moved against him harder, rubbing himself off against Dorian, holding him tighter, moaning, breathing heavy, burying his head until he came.

"Kaffas. If I'd known about repressed chantry boys ten years ago....."

"Sorry," Cullen muttered. He sounded a little more shamefully pleased than truly apologetic.

Dorian turned and kissed him, taking his hand, with its sucked wet thumb, and holding it to his own erection.

"It's only fair."

With a lazy smile, Cullen kissed the tip of his nose and then hesitated. “Your temperature is still up.”

Dorian gave him such a pained look that he disappeared under the covers. "Fine. But we can do better than just fair."

There was a warning stroke before lips enveloped him, tugging and sucking until he came, holding onto the bedhead.

Cullen looked all to pleased with himself as he reappeared, wiping his lips and kissing Dorian one last time before getting out of bed.

"Don't be long," Dorian huffed with a stretch.

"Dorian. It's morning. It's time to get up."

He was rewarded with a scowl as Dorian looked to the cracks around the door. "The sun's not even up."

"She's getting up, and so is the rest of Skyhold. I need to sort this out and get to work," Cullen chuckled, running a hand through the mess of curls on his head.

Dorian simply huffed and rolled himself up in the bedsheets.

"Will you at least be up by lunch time?" Cullen asked.

"My temperature’s still up."


	6. Sleepy boys part three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian is OOC.

Cullen was still sleepy, a little sore even - for various reasons - but he felt more at peace than he could ever remember being. 

So he didn't enjoy his door being flung open, halfway through the day, one of Leliana’s people gasping for breath. “Ser. M-mage. In the library…. Fire.”

Later, once things were over, Cullen wasn't certain whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that he didn't first think of Dorian. But that was who he was faced with, as he followed the shouts to the first floor of the library. 

“It's magic fire,” Dorian growled, “it won't burn the books!” He lifted a page of his notes to prove his point. It backfired and he snapped his fingers away, with a muted “oops”, leaving Solas to panic and put out the floating flames, while cursing in Elvish. 

“No. Fires. In. The. Library!”

“I wouldn't have to if it wasn't so cold!”

The expression on Solas’s face was almost comical. Eyes big, disbelieving, his head shaking slightly as he tried to grasp at the situation, find some sort of retort. Mostly, though, Cullen was recovering from the fear that there might be an abomination waiting for him. And now the realisation it could happen to Dorian. It was only a niggling thought that pulled him out, as he looked to Dorian and felt his forehead for the second time that day. 

“Maker, you're burning up!”

“He's just jealous!” Dorian raged, looking at Cullen wildly, jabbing a finger at the elf. 

“Jealous?” Solas scoffed. 

“Of my hair. I've got it aaaall over and you know it.”

Silence descended upon the library save for what Cullen was certain was a laugh from Leliana somewhere up above. 

“Dorian,”Cullen said, gently. Before he could speak further, Dorian looked at him and lit up as if he had only just realised Cullen was present. He began to lean seductively on a bookcase with a purred “Well hello, commander” but missed and hit the floor. 

“You vile elf. You bald little prick. You accursed apostate. You moved the very ground just to make a fool of me!”

Solas looked to Cullen, eyes piercing straight through him. “Remove him.”

Cullen, helping Dorian up, kept his arms locked behind his back to stop him lunging for Solas. “Come on, Pavus…. Let's get you to bed.”

“What, now?” Dorian whispered loudly, relaxing in his grip. 

Praying his blush could be kept down with sheer willpower alone, Cullen kept Dorian moving down the stairs and through the door to his office. It was the least public route he could take the crazed mage and would offer some privacy. Once there, he sat Dorian down and knelt before him, laughing now when Dorian's face lit up again and he scrambled to unbutton his fly. Cullen quickly held his wrists to stop him and looked at his face, taking in the dilated pupils, the purpling tint around his lips. 

“How much of the potion did you drink?”

He recognised it. One of Adan’s concoctions from Haven. Containing equal parts alcohol and psychoactive herbs, topped with a little actual healing potion. Lethal enough to one's reputation in even the smallest doses. 

“It wasn't working so I downed it all. And it's still not working. I'm cold. I'm cold, Cullmander Commen….. Clumpetitivenessossity……” His speech slowed and he began to flop forward onto Cullen. “My nanny never loved me.”

Cullen patted his back and kissed his hot, sweaty neck, trying not to wince as Dorian wiped a very wet sounding nose in his mantle and told him it smelt bad. Then kept saying Smelt. 

“Right,” Cullen sighed. “I need you to wait here, OK?” He held Dorian's face squishing his cheeks affectionately. “I'll only be gone a moment.” After planting a kiss of his lover's head, he stood and climbed up to his room, throwing down his bedding. Dorian was going to need to rest. He was also going to need someone to watch him. Left upstairs, he'd only throw himself through the trapdoor, and Cullen was going to be too distracted to work even if he put Dorian in somebody's else's care. So he'd watch him himself. 

Dorian was naked and flat on his back, legs up against a bookcase. 

“I thought you were cold,” Cullen sighed.

“I am. My clothes were made of ice and sadness.”

Cullen dragged the bedding to the closest corner behind his desk and made up the most comfortable nest he could, patting it to entice Dorian over. The mage rolled over, knocking a few books down, and crawled into it, curling up with the declaration that we was a cat and he would never, ever eat another vegetable. 

Cullen patted him on the head and went to find some loose fitting clothes for the man, as he didn't fancy wrestling him into all those buckles and leather. Once in his room, the door below swung open, the inquisitor having burst through. 

“Is everything OK?”

“I'm an attack dog,” he heard Dorian say. “I need to… Alert the Cullmner. Uh. What…. BaBark. Baaaaaark!” he began to shout. 

“I thought you were a cat,” Cullen shouted down. 

“Oh right. Cat. Caaaat. Caaaaaaat.”

The inquisitor was looking at him expectantly when he made it to the bottom of the ladder. “Adan’s infamous fever remedy.”

“Ah,” the inquisitor nodded. “How much?”

“Whole bottle.”

“Well, shit.”


End file.
